


Nonverbal Eloquence

by stellarmeadow



Series: Summer 2013 Prompts [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny's rants don't say half as much as the rest of him does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nonverbal Eloquence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegrrrl2002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrrrl2002/gifts).



> From a prompt by thegrrrl2002 - don't want to spoil it so I won't mention the prompt until the end. :) Thank you for the prompt!! :):)

Steve wasn't sure quite when it had started. 

No, that's not true, if he's being honest with himself. And isn't that what he's trying to do here? Why he's ignoring Danny's latest rant in favor of some serious self examination as he drives home, to finally be brutally honest with himself?

So, yes, he knew exactly when it had started. It had started with the introduction of Lori Weston into their group. When he'd started pairing up with her more--strictly to figure out what she was up to. Whether he could trust her.

He'd told Danny that. Repeatedly. And Danny had nodded in that way that said, without a word, 'Yes, sure, Steven, of _course_ I believe you. You're totally choosing to go off with the hot blonde with a gun because you want to keep an _eye_ on her.'

It was the most eloquent and sarcastic nod in Danny's repertoire.

Just as he used faces and nods as silent weapons, Danny used clothing. When Steve had first met him, Danny had been hiding, still licking his wounds, under buttons and ties and wrinkled clothing that didn't quite fit. A silent metaphor for Danny in Hawaii. He was practically wearing a sign that said 'Back off!'

Luckily, Steve loved to ignore warning signs. 

When Danny had given up on Rachel, the ties disappeared. His shirts fit, and they lost a button or two at the top. Comfortable, they said, both on the island and in his own skin.

Then Lori had been dumped into their laps.

Danny hadn't gone back to rumpled shirts and ties. Oh no. That Steve could have laughed at. Mocked and teased him about. 

No, instead it was more like Danny had thrown all his shirts in the dryer on the hottest setting and they were slowly shrinking. 

Or maybe they weren't. Maybe it was just Danny's sheer frustration, for lack of a better word, visible just under his skin, like his entire body was thrumming with some sort of energy that wanted out. Maybe it was filling him, stretching his skin just enough until his clothes were just this side of indecent.

Like that morning. Danny's shirt had been all Steve could see through the Camaro's passenger window when Danny had walked out of his apartment. When he got into the car, Steve realized the fabric, white with tiny pinstripes, was so thin he could see the fine hairs that covered Danny's chest under the fabric.

When he followed Danny into the victim's house, he could see the freckles on Danny's back through his shirt. Freckles that Steve had to admit, in his attempt at honesty, he wanted to taste. Wanted to map out every day to see how they changed over the years.

And then there were the buttons.

The single most noticeable problem with Danny's shirts was the buttons. They were snug at the best of times. At the worst, they strained against their holes like they were going to break free at any moment. Like they couldn't wait to escape and bare everything Danny was hiding underneath.

Given Danny's penchant for non-verbal communication, he was wearing the Danny Williams equivalent of the incredible shrinking micro miniskirt. 

Steve tried not to look at the buttons. Instead, he listed all the reasons in his head why he should continue to resist the fantasies Danny was constantly drawing out of the deepest recesses of Steve's brain. He had a long list of reasons to resist. A logical list, one that had kept him in check for a good while now.

It was a list held together about as well as Danny's shirt, straining to break free and disappear and give Steve what he really wanted.

A list that, this particular Tuesday evening, was no match for Danny's shirt.

Steve swerved off the road and killed the engine, cutting off Danny's rant. Steve had barely heard any of it--something about sand--having been so distracted by those fucking buttons. 

"What the hell is the matter with you?" Danny asked. "You nearly caused that car to rear end us!" he added, though the car had been way behind them and in no danger. "Are you finally losing it?"

"There's a good dry cleaner near my house."

Okay, not the best opening, judging by Danny's 'Steve's finally over the edge' face only getting more pronounced. "Excuse me?"

"Your shirts," Steve said, eyes flickering to those buttons, which threatened to pop once again as Danny shifted in his seat to face Steve. "Whoever's cleaning them is clearly cheating you because they're shrinking. A lot."

Danny stared at him for a long moment. "You swerved off the road a mile from your house to tell me the name of a good dry cleaner?"

"Danny--"

"Because I've seen your clothes, Mr. Bulging Bicep T-Shirt Man, and if that's who you're taking your clothes to, I don't think it's going to stop my shrinking shirt problem."

Steve breathed carefully in through his nose a few times. "You're right," he said, reaching for the key to restart the car. "Forget I said--"

"No." Danny pulled Steve's hand away from the ignition. "You didn't pull over just to tell me about your dry cleaner." His voice was softer, out of rant mode, with that quality that was even harder to resist than those shirts. "What's really going on?"

Steve licked his lips. Those buttons were going to break any second, and he couldn't stop staring. He reached over carefully, eyes darting from Danny's chest to his face, checking his reaction, but Danny seemed calm.

No, not calm. Waiting, that same something just under his skin again, waiting to break free with the end of those failing buttons. Something that made an answering heat burn under Steve's skin, like--

Oh.

The realization gave Steve the courage to slide two fingers into the gap between the two topmost buttoned buttons, watching them strain against the fabric. He could feel as well as hear Danny's breath quicken, feel a sudden rush of heat through Danny's body to match his own. 

Steve twisted his fingers sideways, and the top button popped at last, flying at the windshield with a plastic click as it hit. 

Steve's fingers were on Danny's chest, the hair soft against them. He slid them down to the next button, intent on setting the rest of them free.

Danny's hand closed around Steve's wrist and Steve froze, eyes flying back to Danny's face. He'd expected...well, anger, maybe, or annoyance. Instead, Danny was looking at him with amusement and that same energy Steve had finally dared to define as something akin to lust. 

"Seriously?" Danny said, his thumb caressing the inside of Steve's wrist. "You chose the side of the road this close," he held up his free hand, thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart, "to your house to make your play? After months and months?"

"It's your shirts," Steve said, unable to cover and stuck with the truth. "I couldn't take it anymore."

"Glad the ruination of half my wardrobe finally paid off."

Steve frowned. "You really were doing it on purpose all this time?

"Did I say that?" Danny asked, with a hint of a smile. "Of course, on the other hand, I didn't _not_ say it."

His voice had dropped lower. Seductive, making Steve want to get rid of the rest of those buttons right now. 

"Tell you what," Danny said, still in that same tone. "Take me home, away from the prying eyes of Mrs. Toshika, who clearly does not understand that we can still see her over there even if she's peeking out of the blinds, and I _might_ even tell you which it was."

Steve took his hand back and started the car, peeling back out onto the road. "I have ways of making you talk."

Danny's chuckle indicated he thought otherwise, but Steve knew it didn't matter.

Danny didn't need to talk. Steve could read his silence like an open book.

\---  
END

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: Danny's tight shirts with the buttons about to pop are making Steve kind of crazy.
> 
>  
> 
> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


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